“The Oracle says there is a madness within me. Evil. And if I nurture it, the future is unclear. Do you see why I cannot allow it to stay?”
Pandora looked down at her smooth-skinned hands. A rustle in the tree line behind them caught her attention, but before she could turn to inspect, Zeus took her chin in his hand.
“You will be my greatest release, Pandora. The blood lust, rage, greed, envy, craving for death, sickness, and blinding bitterness. You will relieve me from it. All of my madness will be held within your essence, and you will carry it for all time until I come to relieve you of it.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head frantically. “No, I’m not yet strong enough, I can’t carry the burden of an immortal. It will rip me apart!”
“Ah, that is the catch now, isn’t it? The bargain of life. I give you life eternal, and you give me the life I was meant to lead without the burden of the unknown. I’ve thought about this moment every day since the Oracle foretold my glory. How does one rid themselves of feelings that were bred into their very being? It’s simple really. I’ll never be rid of the seed, but I can cut the plant from the stem and place it elsewhere. Time. All I need is more time.”
The rustling behind them grew louder and Pandora moved to stand, to turn away, anything, but strong hands forced her in place and uttered soft whispers in her ear.
“This will only hurt for eternity,” he smiled cruelly, and it was then she could see the madness within the depths of his ochre eyes flashing like lightning.
He forced himself on top of her and held her struggling form in place with ease. Skin on skin, they were pressed against each other, his body a slab of unmoving stone. Zeus forced her hands above her head where something slimy bound her wrists. She looked above frantically and saw the bank coming to life around her.
The foliage surrounded them and pinned her down where his body had been before. She squirmed and screamed, but it made no difference. No sign of life was evident other than the possessed greenery and the more she wiggled, the tighter it held her.
Zeus called for vines from the forest, different from the thin ropes already holding her. These cut her skin as they slithered down her arms.
Thorns.
He called forth the black roses that surrounded the river of death and wound the vines around her throat. These were no ordinary thorns, however. Bred to keep the dead from the living, they were as long as a man’s fingers and as sharp as the steel that carried his armies to victory. The vines cut deep within her flesh and pulled tight until she couldn’t move without puncturing something vital. Not that it would matter. She was immortal. If she nicked an artery she would bleed out until death overcame her, but her curse would pull her soul back from the brink. She would feel every tendril of pain and it would show her no mercy.
“Please,” she sobbed. She’d do anything to make the fire radiating from her neck stop.
Blood ran down her skin in rivulets, tainting the soft pallor of her chest and shoulders.
“Shhh.. Nothing can help you. We’re almost finished.”
Her eyes drifted shut as her vision darkened. Zeus hovered above Pandora and watched life drain from her eyes. As she faded further, he focused on her dying soul and guided it out.
Before him, rising slowly from her perfect, pouty lips, was her essence–a physical representation of the soul.
Zeus closed his eyes and inhaled, centering his mind before diving deep into his own soul. He conjured the curdled sickness from his core, cutting it at the knees and balling it up with a fraction of his own light as he guided the piece of his essence from his chest to intertwine with hers. He would never be rid of the core, but this would have to do for now.
Pandora’s light was the purest of white as it had yet to be tainted by life. The ball of madness he brought forth from himself was a sluggish black mass plagued with disease. When it mingled with the purity of her essence, it spread like black ink in water, dulling the luminosity.
Tainted. That’s what she would be. Blighted by his madness.
Once he was sure the bond was complete, he sent the oily mass of dull light back down her throat and into her being. This time when the light shone in her eyes, it was a dead color of ochre.
That just wouldn’t do.
Any immortal would recognize the eyes of their ruler and the bloodlust that dwelling in the depths. They’d spent the past ten years cowering from it. No one could know what he had done tonight. His weakness would not be exploited and used against him, and there was no way he would allow even a single piece of his essence in someone else’s hands.
Zeus called more of the thorny bush forward and urged the black roses to bloom in the moonlight. Beautiful silk petals blossomed in abundance. He took a moment to appreciate the flower budding at death’s doorstep.
It was remarkable.
He drew his focus back to Pandora and rubbed a thumb over her cheek, wiping stray tears from the porcelain skin. She sobbed silently, the razor-sharp thorns mutilating her throat with every movement.
“Try not to scream, Pandora. It will only make it worse.”
She could have never anticipated his next move.
Zeus held her face, grazed the pads of his thumbs over her eyelids and urged them closed as he applied pressure to the delicate orbs. Slowly, drawing pleasure from every gasp of pain and muted scream, he pushed his thumbs into her eye sockets until he felt a soft pop beneath the thin skin.
She jerked and pulled against her botanical restraints as she gurgled a scream. Blood bubbled from every inch the thorns pierced. The movement mutilated her neck further, but the pain radiated from so many places that she soon became too numb to notice.
